


Are You Lonesome Tonight?

by My_Alter_Ego



Series: White Collar Discussions [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Bonding, Gen, Jealousy, Late Night Calls, Loneliness, Portent of Things To Come, Pre-Series Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 22:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20731691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: A pre-series story depicting Neal’s habit of calling Peter from time to time during their epic chase. This short fictional account relates a conversation between the two that may have inadvertently revealed a few chinks in Neal’s armor, and Peter finds himself both worried and intrigued.





	Are You Lonesome Tonight?

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Kate was reclining back in a chaise lounge in the small apartment that she shared with Neal. The handsome young con artist was seated on an ottoman at her feet meticulously giving her a rather unique pedicure. Each little toenail had morphed into a miniature masterpiece reminiscent of Claude Monet, and there was an abundance of waterlilies now adorning both of her feet. Neal had been working in silence for the better part of the past hour. Actually, he was miles away, mentally reliving the successful gem heist he had pulled off the night before. The Feds, and namely, Peter Burke, didn’t have a clue.

When Neal was finished, Kate inspected his work with a critical eye before baiting her lover. “Very clever, Neal. Degas couldn’t have done a better job.”

“Thanks,” Neal replied in a distracted manner.

“Neal!” Kate barked petulantly. “You weren’t listening to me!”

“Sorry, what?” Neal seemed perplexed by his lover’s outburst.

“I purposely misrepresented the artist and it went right over your head. You’ve been thinking about that Peter Burke person again!”

“Oh, do you mean _Burke the Jerk?"_ Neal tried to downplay the drama and his part in it. However, Neal knew that he did sort of perseverate on Agent Burke—more familiarly known as _Peter_ in his own mind. It seemed that Kate was keenly aware of that little quirk and it pissed her off.

“Neal, you spend more time thinking about him than you do about me,” Kate pouted. “I should be the focus of your attention, not some stiff-necked Fed in a bad suit.”

“I do think about you all the time, Sweetheart,” Neal protested. “Peter Burke is just a little hobby for me.”

“Well, hobbies can become obsessions,” Kate snarked. “Neal, you have to stop tempting fate. Burke is not your friend, no matter how many little cozy phone chats you have with him. Please curb your enthusiasm for this ridiculous cat and mouse game that’s bordering on a ridiculous crush.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The very next morning, Kate waited for her competition in the underground parking garage of the Federal Building. When her target exited his Ford Taurus, she stepped from behind a cinder block pillar directly into his path.

“Agent Burke, we need to have a discussion,” Kate proclaimed with a hard look to her features.

Peter peered down at the young woman and smiled cynically. He was quite familiar with Neal Caffrey’s girlfriend. The Bureau had pulled her in for many sit-downs, but Caffrey carefully kept her away from his crimes and, time after time, they had absolutely nothing on Kate.

“Miss Moreau, what can I do for you?” Peter asked pleasantly. “Have you had a change of heart and decided to turn state’s evidence against your criminal boyfriend?”

Kate just rolled her eyes. “What I’m here to do is to tell you to stop this passive-aggressive game that you have going on with Neal. Why do you even take his calls? Don’t you have real bad guys to pursue like serial killers, drug traffickers, or child predators? Go after Bernie Madoff types, for goodness sake. Why are you so fixated on him?”

“Because he’s interesting and a challenge,” Peter said honestly, “and one day his ass is going to be mine.”

“Neal and his ass belong to me!” Kate said vehemently.

“Why, Kate, you actually sound jealous,” Peter chortled. “Do you see me as that kind of rival?”

Kate refused to answer because she was remembering all the times she had noted that almost affectionate expression that Neal got on his face after a Peter Burke interaction. Was it possible that Neal was smitten with Peter Burke? Kate needed to be number one on Neal’s hit parade, and she was not into sharing the spotlight. Since the angry young woman had said her piece, she turned and flounced away leaving Peter to ponder.

~~~~~~~~~~

The phone call had come into Peter Burke’s cell at exactly 2 AM. El groaned softly and turned bleary eyes in her husband’s direction. “Don’t worry, Hon, it’s only Neal,” Peter informed his wife so that she could roll over and return to sleep.

Even though the small LCD screen showed an unknown caller, Peter knew it had to be the young con artist he had been pursuing for months. Their relationship had actually evolved into a gentleman’s game of catch me if you can, all quite amicable and even bordering on friendly. Neal took it into his head to connect with Peter sporadically during the chase, usually when he was far beyond the FBI’s reach. Peter had long since given up the useless effort to trace these calls. In fact, they occurred most often when Neal was oceans and continents away. 2 AM New York time meant that it would be 3 AM in Rio De Janeiro, 8 AM in Paris, or 4 PM the next day in Sydney. Caffrey had been in all of those places when he had called Peter in the past, although the agent hadn’t connected the calls to the capers in those cities until later, weeks after the fact.

“Hello, Neal,” Peter said resignedly when he answered his phone and moved quietly out of the bedroom.

“Hey there, Peter!” the annoying upstart chirped into his ear. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Just utilizing my amazing deductive skills, kiddo,” Peter answered. “Who else gets such great pleasure out of disrupting my sleep on a work night?”

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you or your beautiful wife?” Neal actually did sound a bit contrite, but Peter wasn’t about to cut the kid a break.

“Yep, you did. Now if you’re just calling to gloat about your latest spectacular heist or clever burglary, I’m not interested because past experience has taught me you only chat about crimes outside of my purview.”

“Perhaps I just wanted to talk about other things,” Neal replied meekly.

“Like what?” Peter asked sternly.

“Do you want actual specifics?” Neal wheezed out a rather dramatic sigh. “I don’t have a precisely annotated list of conversational topics. Maybe I’m just being spontaneous and want to reach out to you and hear your voice on the other end of the phone.”

Peter frowned and had to think this through. A little idea suddenly flitted around in his head on butterfly wings. It didn’t seem likely, but then, you never knew. “Neal, are you lonesome tonight? Is that the reason for this call?”

“Hey, Peter, that’s actually the title of an old Elvis Presley song,” Neal chuckled as he began singing in a pleasant tenor voice.

_ Are you lonesome tonight?_

_ Do you miss me tonight?_

_ Are you sorry we drifted apart?_

Peter snorted at the serenade. “That was meant to be a love song, Neal, and I don’t think there’s too much love between us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Neal replied. “Maybe not love, but we do seem to _like_ each other in a strangely convoluted way.”

“You’re deflecting, Buddy,” Peter said in return. “Answer my question. Are you feeling lonely and that’s why you’re burning up my air minutes? What happened to that girlfriend of yours? Did she decide to leave you high and dry because you couldn’t fulfill her emotional needs? Were you a disappointment to her and she took off for greener pastures?”

“As titillating as it may be for you, Peter, I’m not going to discuss my love life,” Neal said adamantly.

“You’re a real buzzkill, kid,” Peter snickered.

Neal was quiet for a few seconds. “Perhaps when I think about it, maybe you’ve become more of a father figure to me,” he said thoughtfully to fill the silence. “Yeah, like a sounding board. Can you pull off being a sympathetic nonjudgmental listener?”

“Why do you need a father figure, Neal?” Peter asked softly. “Don’t you have parents of your own?”

“Well, of course I have parents,” Neal protested. “I wasn’t just hatched from an egg like a turtle and left behind to fend for myself while I sought out a home in the sea.”

“So, why not them?” Peter persisted. “What’s the stumbling block holding you back from seeking a relationship with your own mom or dad? There’s that old saying that _‘Home is where they have to take you in.' _Doesn’t that work in your case?”

“Now you’re the one being a buzzkill,” Neal said quietly. Apparently, Peter had touched on a sensitive nerve, and the probing FBI agent felt a bit guilty.

“Okay, my young ‘pain in the butt,’ why don’t you pick a subject to discuss,” Peter said magnanimously.

“Tell me about your own parents, Peter,” Neal finally whispered timidly. “What was your life like growing to adulthood in Upstate New York?”

Peter sighed. “Normal, uneventful, and as American as apple pie and parades down Main Street on the Fourth of July. My dad worked in construction and my mother was a teacher. I had siblings, and we squabbled when we were young, but are still quite supportive of each other now that we’re all grown. I played baseball and had dreams of the Big League, but found myself making the FBI a career instead. I met and married an amazing woman, and now here I am chatting with an annoying, elusive fugitive in the wee hours of the morning. I guess I’m pretty boring, right? Especially to a highflyer like you who cavorts around the world at the drop of a hat.”

“That doesn’t sound boring,” Neal said almost wistfully. “It sounds kinda nice.”

“Neal,” Peter said very gently, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Peter. My life is just peachy,” the young man insisted.

Peter wasn’t buying it for a second. “Have you managed to get yourself into some kind of jam in a foreign country, Neal? I can help with that. I could get you extradited back to the States under my protection. We could work out some kind of deal to get your sentence reduced. Bond forgery is a White Collar crime, so there’s some wiggle room for me. I could even make an appeal to the judge if it goes to trial.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet, Buddy,” Neal managed to sound sarcastic and annoying all at once. “But I think I’ll pass on your generous offer. I’m free as a bird and I intend to stay that way.”

“Maybe not for long if you come back Stateside,” Peter said ominously.

“You know, Peter, you could just stop chasing me,” Neal suggested.

“And you know, Neal, that’s not an option,” Peter replied. “I have to do my job.”

“Maybe you love your job a little too much when it comes to me,” the young fugitive mused thoughtfully. “Would you get all hot and bothered if you managed to put the cuffs on me?” he asked in a comically lascivious tone.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Peter laughed. “You’re very handsome and quite a catch, pardon the pun, but having you as my plus one is definitely not my style. Besides, you wouldn’t want to make your girlfriend jealous.”

“Nope, definitely not,” Neal quickly agreed. “Well, I’m sorry to have interrupted your beauty sleep, Peter. Go back to bed and cuddle with your wife.”

“Before you hang up, I have one more thing to add,” Peter hastily replied. “Promise me that you’ll be careful and look before you leap wherever you presently are in the world. And if you ever find yourself in real trouble, call me anytime, day or night. I’ll be on the next plane out of New York.”

The silence lengthened and Peter wondered if Neal had already hung up. But finally, the FBI agent heard a very soft, “_Thank you, Peter,”_ that preceded the dead air of a disconnected call.

Peter sighed. Caffrey was an enigma, a virtual Pandora’s Box of suspected vices and sins, but, nonetheless, a compelling puzzle of other poignant contradictions. However, there was one unanswered and troubling question surrounding this strange bond that bound them together. If Peter ever did catch Neal, exactly what should he do with him?


End file.
